


Stuck In The Moment

by PaintingWithWords (paint_with_words)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Crying, Frustration, Gen, Groundhog Day, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-12 23:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13557855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paint_with_words/pseuds/PaintingWithWords
Summary: Viktor keeps reliving the same day over and over again.  Can he figure out what he needs to do to break the loop he's stuck in?





	Stuck In The Moment

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what got into me. I saw a challenge on Tumblr by [DiamondWinters](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DiamondWinters) for a Groundhog Day fic and wrote one. In one day. Okay, the challenge was to write a drabble and I kind of messed that part up, but here you go.

Viktor sat down heavily on the bed, wondering where he’d gone wrong.  Yuuri had been in first place going into today’s free skate, but he’d flubbed jump after jump during his performance and ended up coming in last.  Their dreams of getting to the Grand Prix and winning the gold were practically over, and they hadn’t even made it past his first competition at the Cup of China.  He’d held Yuuri while he sobbed in the kiss and cry, utterly inconsolable as his score came in.  There was no recovering from this and they both knew it.  Their journey was done before it even got started.

He couldn’t figure out what he did wrong.  When he got up that morning and found Yuuri sitting on the edge of his bed, looking stressed and like he hadn’t slept at all, he’d made him go to sleep and made sure he got plenty of rest.  When Yuuri’s anxiety began to rear its awful head again and threatened to undermine all Yuuri had worked so hard for, he did everything he could to keep him calm and centered and from tipping over the edge.  He’d protected Yuuri and kept him away from the scores of the other skaters.  He’d done everything he could to keep Yuuri in a good mood and as well-rested and stress free as possible, yet they had still ended up here.

Now he was all alone in their room.  Yuuri had cried so much and so hard that he’d made himself sick while they were still in the rink.  After the medal ceremony, Phichit and Celestino had come to collect him.

“We know how to handle this, Viktor,” Celestino had said as Phichit led Yuuri away.  “Let us take care of Yuuri.”

And they’d taken him back to the hotel, sequestered him in their room, and left Viktor alone in the stadium.  The ache in his heart for poor Yuuri was crushing, and he felt horrible for what had happened.

He tried to talk to Yakov about it, but his former coach had been gruff and dismissive.  “You threw your career away on someone who can’t handle the pressure, Vitya,” Yakov told him, Georgi by his side, looking down at the floor while Yakov let him have it.  “I told you not to go to Japan.  It would have been best if you had never gone and left him alone.  You gave him hope, and that was the worst thing you could have done for him.  Now leave Katsuki in peace.”

No one had wanted to talk to him.  Viktor felt like everyone blamed him for what had happened to Yuuri, and he blamed himself right along with them.  How could he not?  He was Yuuri’s coach.  What had happened was his responsibility.

Viktor ended up on the roof of the hotel a few minutes before midnight, gazing up at the stars like he had when he was a child.  He’d come up here because he had nothing else he could do.  So he gazed up at the cold and clear night sky, wishing there was something he could do to fix this.

As he looked up, a blazing white streak lit up the night sky.  Viktor’s gaze fell on the meteor streaking across the stars and whispered, “Just give me the chance to make it right.”

The meteor fizzled out, leaving a trail of fading dust against the blackness.  Downtrodden, Viktor stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trench coat and made his way back down to the room he’d shared with Yuuri.  No one was there when he walked in, and he dropped his coat on the floor.  He took off his badge and let it fall beside his coat.   As he sat down on the bed, he kicked his shoes off, not caring where they landed.    

There was no fixing this, he knew, and it hurt.  He lay down on the bed and ran his fingers through his hair.  Yuuri was done.  They were done.  Eventually, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The gentle chirp of his alarm woke Viktor, and slowly he reached over and thumbed it off.  With a heavy sigh, he rolled over and was surprised to find Yuuri sitting on the edge of his bed. When had he come back?  No matter.  What mattered was how tired and stressed Yuuri looked.  Viktor blinked slowly at him.  Yuuri looked exactly like he had yesterday morning before the free skate.

Viktor sat up, surprised to find he was in his underwear and under the covers.  Last night when he’d fallen asleep, he’d just let things fall where they may and hadn’t bothered to take off his suit, or even get under the covers.  Confused, he looked down at the floor, but his trench coat and shoes and badge weren’t there.  Had Yuuri come back in the middle of the night and picked them up?  Had he managed to undress him, too? 

“Yuuri,” he said quietly, unsure how to proceed.  “How are you feeling today?”

“Fine,” Yuuri lied.  He knew Yuuri was lying.  He looked as nervous and exhausted as he had the day before. 

“Look,” Viktor said, rising out of the bed and coming to sit next to Yuuri.  “I know yesterday was bad, but it’s not necessarily the end of the world, okay?  You might still be able to recover from…”  Viktor stopped talking as Yuuri turned to look at him, his soft brown eyes wide with confusion.

“What do you mean, ‘yesterday was bad’?” Yuuri said carefully.  “I’m in first place.  How… how is that bad?”

Viktor blinked at Yuuri, trying to process what he’d just said.  Was Yuuri confused?  Had some part of Yuuri’s brain decided it couldn’t deal with what happened and decided to make him forget all about it?

“Don’t you remember?” Viktor said gently.  “You were in first place after the short program, but then when you did your free skate-”

“The free skate’s today, Viktor,” Yuuri quietly interrupted.  “Did you forget?”

“Today?” Viktor echoed.  “But I remember-”

“It’s today,” Yuuri said, handing Viktor his phone.  He took it and looked down.  Sure enough, the free skate was this evening.  Frowning, Viktor dismissed the screen.  When Yuuri’s home screen came up, it displayed the date.  Yesterday’s date.  What in the hell was going on?

“I don’t understand,” Viktor said as he handed Yuuri’s phone back to him.  “I swear…” he trailed off, utterly at a loss for what was happening.

“Did you have a bad dream?”  Yuuri asked, and then more hesitantly, almost as if he was afraid to say the words, “Did you dream that I lost?”

 _Shut up_ , Viktor thought.  _Don’t say a damn word.  You’ll upset him, and that’s the last thing he needs right now._

That must be it.  He’d had a dream, a long, nightmarish dream.  It was the only answer that made any sense.  And he didn’t need to let Yuuri know a damn thing about it.

Viktor forced a smile and put his arm around Yuuri’s shoulders.  “Sorry, Yuuri.  I just got a little confused.  I guess I’ve got a little of your jetlag and I lost track of what day it was.”

Yuuri frowned and looked down, clearly not convinced. 

 _Now I’ve made him feel like shit_ , Viktor thought darkly.  _I’ve made him think that his own coach doesn’t have confidence in him.  How do I fix this?_

He could tell Yuuri was tired.  He looked like he’d barely slept, but it was almost time to go to the rink and practice.  Quickly, Viktor dressed in slacks and a sweater (he’d been wearing the same ones in that awful dream, should he wear something different?) and escorted Yuuri to the rink.  But poor Yuuri was so tired and worn out that he couldn’t even land a jump.

Viktor swallowed, fighting off the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.  The same thing had happened in his dream last night and it shook him more than he wanted to admit.  He took Yuuri back to their room, helped him undress, and put him in bed.  He sat quietly on his own bed, scrolling through his social media feeds while Yuuri took a much needed nap. 

Two hours before Yuuri was due to skate, Viktor woke him up.  His suit was right where he hung it and Viktor felt a bit of trepidation at the sight of it.  He almost put on the same suit he’d worn yesterday instead, as though it was some kind of good luck charm and would bring Yuuri another first place finish.  But that was foolish.  Was he going to let some crazy dream dictate his actions now?  Viktor put on his dark grey suit and headed to the rink, Yuuri by his side.

Yuuri flubbed the same exact jumps in practice as he had in Viktor’s dream, and Viktor found it hard to shake the sense of foreboding creeping into him.  It had just been a dream, a stupid, stressed out dream, that’s all.  There was nothing to it.

But then Yuuri started getting nervous, despite the fact that he was well-rested.  Once again, Viktor led him away to practice his moves in private, kept him from the scores of the others, scrolled through pictures he’d taken of Makkachin on the beach that summer.  It took the edge off Yuuri’s nerves, and by the time he was ready to skate, he wore a faint smile. 

And then Yuuri flubbed his first jump again and lost his confidence.  Viktor could tell he was trying, but Yuuri wasn’t able to recover.  He ended up holding Yuuri as he sobbed in the kiss and cry as the score was announced.  Viktor felt a chill go through him.  It was the same score he’d seen in his dream, the exact same score.  Once again, Yuuri cried himself sick in the rink and Phichit and Celestino came to take him away.

“We know how to handle this, Viktor,” Celestino said gently as Phichit led Yuuri away.  “Let us take care of Yuuri.”

Cold fear ran through Viktor.  This was exactly what he’d dreamed.  The exact same words, the exact same actions, the exact same results.  It had come true.  He’d never put any faith in people who claimed to be clairvoyant, but was this what had happened to him?  Had he somehow dreamed about the future?

Viktor ended up on the roof again just before midnight and saw the same meteor flash through the sky.  Again, he went back to an empty hotel room.  But this time he stripped before he went to bed, feeling lost and alone.

The gentle chirp of his alarm woke Viktor, and slowly he reached over and thumbed it off.  He looked at the date and saw that it was unchanged.  He looked over and saw Yuuri sitting tiredly on the edge of his bed.  And, just like the previous two times before, Yuuri came in sixth.  Phichit and Celestino came to take care of Yuuri, Yakov scolded him in front of Georgi, and he ended up alone on the roof just before midnight, watching a meteor streak across the sky.

“Please, just give me a sign,” he whispered as the meteor faded into dust against the night. 

The gentle chirp of his alarm woke Viktor, and slowly he reached over and thumbed it off.  He lay in the bed for a moment, unwilling to get up.  Something was wrong, terribly wrong.  Somehow or another, he’d managed to live the same horrible day three days in a row now, and all he could do was watch as things spiraled out of control.  Idly, he wondered if he’d died and didn’t know it and had wound up in hell.  He felt like a fly, caught in amber or a spider’s web.  He could see the disaster looming on the horizon, but was powerless to change what happened.

“Are you getting up?” Yuuri asked, roughly derailing Viktor’s train of thought.  Viktor squawked in shock and threw his phone in the air.  Yuuri was sitting on his bed, just like he had been every time he woke up for the past three days.  All he could do was stare at Yuuri.

“Are you okay?” Yuuri asked as he reached out to him.  Viktor swallowed nervously.  Yuuri still looked tired. What in the hell was going on?

“You startled me,” Viktor said, trying to catch his breath and let his heart settle back down. 

“Sorry,” Yuuri said.  He bent over and handed Viktor his phone.  “Oh no, your screen is cracked.  We’ll get it fixed when we get back to Japan.” 

Viktor took his phone from Yuuri and looked down at it.  Underneath the cracked glass face, the date remained unchanged.  It was the same day again.  But he’d never cracked his phone before in this horrid instant replay he was stuck in.  Maybe things could change?  Maybe the events weren’t fixed, doomed to repeat in some doomed, endless cycle?

Feeling better than he had in days, Viktor tossed back the covers and went to gather a nervous Yuuri in his arms.

“This is the best thing that’s happened in days!” Viktor said as he hugged Yuuri tight.  He could feel Yuuri squirm in his arms and he let him go.

“Cracking your phone is the best thing that’s happened in days?  What about my first place finish last night?”

“Oh, of course that’s better!  That’s the best!”  Yuuri gave him a confused look and got up and headed towards the bathroom, leaving Viktor sitting on the edge of the bed, cracked phone in hand.

 _Thank you_ , Viktor mouthed as he looked up at the ceiling.  _Thank you for giving me a clue._

So, things could change.  This was good, very good.  Things weren’t set in stone.  Maybe he could get them out of the web, free them from the amber.  Maybe he could change the outcome.  But what in the hell was he supposed to do?

They dressed and went to the rink, where Yuuri kept flubbing simple jumps during practice.  Before, Viktor made Yuuri go back to the hotel and sleep.  Did that have to change?  Viktor quickly dismissed the thought as ridiculous.  Yuuri needed his sleep.  Sending a skater out on the ice without proper rest was ludicrous.  He took Yuuri back to the hotel and thought about what he needed to try to change while Yuuri napped.  He quickly dashed off a list and decided to tell Yuuri not to try any jumps during the warm up.  However, when they got back to the ice, Yuuri did them anyway, against Viktor’s wishes.  So, he couldn’t change something he had no direct control over. 

He watched as Yuuri began to spiral down into a panic attack, whimpering as he sat with his head in his hands, his legs bouncing uncontrollably.  Quickly, Viktor whisked him away to the parking garage, showed him the pictures of Makkachin on the beach again, and got Yuuri to calm down before he was too far gone.  But once again, Yuuri flubbed his jumps and came in sixth.  It was getting harder and harder to watch Phichit and Celestino lead Yuuri away.  It was getting harder and harder to listen to Yakov call him a fool.  It was harder and harder to watch Yuuri suffer and not be able to do anything about it.

Viktor went to the roof early, waiting for the meteor he knew would be coming.  When it streaked across the sky, he merely watched it, unable to trust himself not to scream at the damn thing.

The alarm chirped again.  This time, Viktor shot up out of bed and threw it across the room with a growl of frustration.  Yuuri yelped, startled, as Viktor threw the covers back and stalked to the other side of the room.  He picked up his phone and looked at the intact face.  He snarled and slammed the face down on the corner of the dresser, feeling the phone shudder in his hand as it broke apart.  When he was sure it was smashed beyond repair, he let it drop to the ground and stood over it, his chest heaving.

“You could have just turned off the alarm,” Yuuri said quietly, looking at him like he had no idea who he was, or if he was even safe with him.  Viktor tossed back his hair and sighed.

“I was tired of it,” he lied.  Yuuri blinked at him and he stalked off to the shower. 

When he tucked Yuuri back in bed to nap this time, he left the room.  Viktor needed to think, and a good long walk would help.  All he would do if he stayed was pace the room anyway, and that would do nothing but keep Yuuri awake.  He needed his sleep.

He knew he could change things, but he still had no idea what to change.  And he knew it had to be something he could directly affect.  Yuuri had proved that for him.  He had to figure out what he could do to change the outcome, and he had to figure it out soon.  Seeing Yuuri fail time and time again was eating at him.  He didn’t know how much longer he could watch Yuuri suffer so much.

When he got back to the room, he found Yuuri sitting up in bed, looking at his phone.  He didn’t look like he’d slept at all.

“Did you sleep?” Viktor asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I did!” Yuuri said, a little too fast.  “A little!”

Viktor knew he was lying, but there was nothing that could be done for it now.  It was almost time for them to get ready to head back to the rink for the competition.

Yuuri was so tired he couldn’t even open the bottle of water Viktor gave him.  How in the hell was he supposed to skate in this condition?  He still fell when he attempted jumps during practice.  But Viktor dragged him off before the panic attack was due to begin.  He’d seen it happen enough times, every day now for almost a week, and he decided to head it off before it began. 

But he didn’t have his phone anymore.  He’d destroyed it that morning, so he couldn’t distract Yuuri with wonderful pictures of Makkachin.  But there was Yuuri’s phone.  He was sure Yuuri had pictures of her on it.

“Do you have any pictures of Makkachin on your phone?” he asked.  Yuuri pulled his phone out of his pocket to show him, but he’d apparently had the browser open to a page displaying the scores of the other skaters.  And Viktor watched as Yuuri’s anxiety began to try to take hold of him again.  He pulled Yuuri into his arms as he began to shake and cry, holding him close, soothing him the same way he’d watched Phichit soothe him night after night, fighting off the panic attack. 

After a few moments, Yuuri pulled away and wiped a single tear from his face.

“I’m… I’m okay, Viktor,” Yuuri said, and indeed he was okay.  Viktor smiled at him, hoping he’d finally figured out what needed to change, only to have his hoped dashed as Yuuri fell, again and again, plummeting from first to sixth.

When Phichit and Celestino came for Yuuri this time, he wouldn’t let them take him.  Yuuri ended up crying even harder, and when Phichit tried to take Yuuri in his arms and lead him away, Viktor reached out to stop him.  Celestino grabbed him before he could get ahold of Phichit and roughly pushed him away.

“Go get your head on straight, Nikiforov,” Celestino snarled at him, clearly ready to defend both Phichit and Yuuri physically if he needed to.   Viktor straightened his coat and watched them lead Yuuri away again.  Poor Yuuri was crying even harder this time.  He’d failed Yuuri again.  He didn’t know how much more of this he could take.

The next time the day repeated, Viktor got up with the alarm and left Yuuri alone in the room while he went out for a walk.  He was so lost in thought he never even saw the car run the stop sign and come barreling towards him.  He just felt the jarring impact as his legs shattered with the collision.  He spent the day in the hospital, drifting in and out of consciousness.  Yuuri stayed by his side and didn’t skate at all.  When he woke up in the hotel room the next morning, whole and free of pain, he was grateful for the reset and the chance to try again.

Over and over, the pattern repeated.  Viktor tried varying everything he could think of.  He went shopping and bought new clothes while he left Yuuri alone in the room, knowing full well he wouldn’t sleep.  But not even a new suit made a difference.  Time and time again, Yuuri flubbed his jumps, fell on the ice, and cried like his heart was shattered in a million pieces as they sat in the kiss and cry.

It was too much.  Viktor couldn’t do it anymore.  When his alarm went off, he got up, got dressed, wrote a short note telling Yuuri he was sorry and how much he loved him, but couldn’t bear to see him go through this anymore.  Quietly, he snuck out and went up to the roof.  He climbed over the railing and let go, watching as the ground rushed up to meet him.  He wasn’t sure that this wouldn’t really be the end for him, but he knew he just couldn’t bear this any longer.

But he woke up again in the hotel room, just like he did every day.  This time, he went over and sat down next to Yuuri and quietly explained what had been happening to him.

“You’ve been reliving the same day, over and over, for three months?” Yuuri asked.

“Yes,” Viktor told him.  It was so good to finally get it off his chest, to tell Yuuri what he’d been going through.  Yuuri took it remarkably well, all things considered.  Yuuri gave him a soft smile and convinced him to take a shower.  When he got out and walked into the bedroom, Celestino and Phichit were there, and so was Yakov.  Yuuri was crying in Phichit’s arms again, and Celestino and Yakov pulled Viktor aside.

“Vitya,” Yakov began softly, sending warning tingles down Viktor’s spine.  Yakov was never gentle.  “Vitya, sit down.  We need to talk.”

Viktor sat, but his attention was focused on Yuuri, sobbing uncontrollably in Phichit’s arms, saying something over and over.  Phichit was holding him, shushing him as he gently rocked Yuuri back and forth, comforting him.  Celestino regarded him with a sad, pitying look.

“I think you’ve been under too much pressure,” Yakov said.  “Why don’t you come back to Russia and take a break.”

Viktor looked from Yakov to Celestino to Phichit.  He heard Yuuri whispering, “I broke him.  I did this to him.  It’s all my fault.”  And then he realized what had happened.  Yuuri thought he’d gone insane and called their old coaches to intervene.  They all thought he was crazy.

Viktor swallowed.  He knew it sounded crazy, and if Yuuri had told him he’d been reliving the same day over and over again, he would have thought that Yuuri had buckled under the pressure.  But he knew what was happening.  He knew he hadn’t lost his mind.  And he knew there was no way he could prove it to any of them.  Or was there?

“Let me tell you what I’ve been living through for the past three months, Yakov,” Viktor said, pulling every shred of dignity he could about himself while dripping wet and clad in only a towel.

“Every day, I wake up here in this room, in this bed.  Yuuri hasn’t slept and he’s tired.  We go to the rink, he flubs his jumps during practice.  I bring him back here for a nap, then we go back to the rink.  He goes out to skate and messes up his jumps, again.  He goes from first place to sixth place.  He cries so hard he makes himself sick, and Celestino and Phichit haul him away to their room.  You tell me I’m an idiot.  I go to sleep, alone in this room.  And I wake up here, again, to do the whole goddamn thing all over again.  I’ve been doing this for three months.  Three months!  And I just… I just can’t stand it anymore.”  He broke down, not caring about the tears flowing down his cheeks, only caring that his tears made Yuuri cry even harder.

“You need some rest, Viktor,” Celestino said gently, treating him as though he was a fragile as spun glass.  “We’ll help you out.  Phichit, please take Yuuri to our room.  I’ll meet you there later.”

Viktor watched Phichit lead Yuuri away again.  All was lost.

“Fine,” Viktor said, curling up on the bed.  “Do whatever.  It doesn’t matter, because I’ll wake up here again tomorrow morning and repeat this day all over again.”

And he did.  This time, he dressed and went to the rink and pulled Chris aside.  Chris would listen to him.  Chris wouldn’t think he was crazy.

“Viktor,” Chris purred after he’d had everything explained to him, “don’t take any offense, but you sound crazy.”

Viktor slapped a hand to his forehead, frustrated beyond belief. 

“Okay, let me tell you everything that’s going to happen in the next five minutes,” Viktor said as they leaned on the rails together.  “I’ve seen this almost every day for the past three months.  I have it memorized.  You see Yuuri over there?  He’s going to try a triple toe loop and he’s not going to land it.  As a matter of fact, he’ll roll on the ice twice.  Then Phichit will skate over to him and offer to help him up, but Yuuri will wave him off, dust off his hands on the back of his pants, and smile at me and give me a thumbs up.  Then Georgi will get a call on his phone and come in off the ice for a minute.  He’ll hang up and give Yakov his phone when he demands it.   Now, watch it all happen.”

Chris frowned beside him but said nothing, clearly willing to give Viktor this tiny indulgence.  But when everything happened just as Viktor said it would, Chris looked shaken. 

“How… how did you know all that, Viktor?” Chris asked.  He was white as a sheet.

“Because I’ve seen it play out over and over again, Chris.  I’ve been stuck here, reliving the same day, for months.  And I want it to stop.  I’m hoping by telling you this that maybe it’ll help.”

Viktor told him how the rest of the day would proceed, who would medal, and who would flub their jumps.  Chris came off the podium as Phichit and Celestino took Yuuri away.

“I believe you,” Chris said simply, “but what do we do about it?”

“At this point, I don’t know,” Viktor said, at a loss.  “I keep hoping for a different outcome, but every time Yuuri falls, it breaks my heart.”  He looked at Chris, hoping that maybe having someone believe him would change things.  Maybe this was what needed to happen.

They ended up on the roof of the hotel, sharing a bottle of vodka as the predicted meteor flashed across the sky.

“I’m going to call you when I wake up in the morning,” Viktor said, leaning on Chris’ shoulder, “and I swear to God, if it’s the same goddamn day or if you don’t remember any of this shit, I’m killing myself again.  Because this has to stop.”

But when he woke up, Viktor didn’t have a hangover, despite how drunk he got the night before.  And Chris didn’t recall having a conversation with him the previous day, either.  Resigned to his fate, Viktor got up and this time, he let the day play out, too tired to try to figure out what was going on and too tired to try to change something.  It didn’t matter.  None of it did.  Yuuri fell to sixth place again and the day repeated.

An idea occurred to Viktor.  Maybe he needed to watch and observe and see what the problem was.  Maybe there was a clue somewhere.  He watched things unfold exactly the same way, day after day for an entire week, his heart breaking every time he sat in the kiss and cry and held his precious Yuuri.

He formulated a plan.  He really wanted to write it down, but it was useless: the paper would be blank in the morning and he’d have to start all over.  He experimented, tried to figure out which things had an effect and which didn’t.  He altered one thing at a time.  He made Yuuri sleep, watching over him while he thought about what to do next. 

When they got to the rink and Yuuri began to panic, he pulled him aside, trying to stop the attack in its tracks.  But Yuuri seemed to stay in a kind of anxious state, the threat of the attack hanging over them.  He soothed him as best he could, held him close and did all he could to comfort him.  What if he needed to do the opposite?  Let the attack happen and let Yuuri get it out of his system? 

It took days for Viktor to test that idea.  And when he let it happen, when Yuuri was standing in front of him in the parking garage, sobbing and telling Viktor to have more faith in him than he had in himself, something snapped.  He couldn’t let this happen.  Without thinking, he pulled Yuuri into his arms and kissed him.

Oh, but Yuuri’s lips were soft and so warm.  He kissed him gently, only wanting to soothe away the hurt and the pain.  But when Yuuri began to respond back, his hand coming up to tangle in his hair, Viktor felt a surge of relief and love.  This was it.  This had to be it.  He’d finally found the solution.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from Yuuri, rubbing his thumb over Yuuri’s bottom lip.  Yuuri gazed up at him with those beautiful brown eyes, breathless.

“You… you have to skate,” Viktor whispered against Yuuri’s lips.  Yuuri only nodded, pulling his jacket tighter around him as they broke apart and walked into the rink.

When Yuuri took to the ice, Viktor watched him carefully.  He could still feel the phantom pressure of Yuuri’s lips on his own and he wanted more.  What he’d had had been all too brief.  Yuuri went for his first jump…

…and fell. 

Viktor closed his eyes against the sudden tears.  When he went to the roof that night, he cursed the meteor.  But it made no difference.  He woke up in the room again and the day played out as it always did.

Maybe he was being too gentle with Yuuri.  His mother had said he was stronger than he gave himself credit for, and Viktor agreed.  Maybe he needed to be harder on him.

He didn’t let Yuuri sleep.  Instead, he threw himself on Yuuri, wanting to be close to him.  That fleeting kiss yesterday in the parking garage had been wonderful, but it wasn’t enough.  Not anywhere near enough.  He’d wanted to kiss Yuuri since Sochi, since he showed up at his family’s home, since he’d brushed his thumb against Yuuri’s lower lip in the Ice Castle.  God, the man was driving him mad with want and desire.  And he knew Yuuri felt the same.  He’d kissed him back hungrily in the parking garage.  The kiss wasn’t unwelcome, not at all.  But it wasn’t part of the equation.  It didn’t fit in.  It didn’t change a damn thing.  Still, he couldn’t resist cuddling up on top of Yuuri, wrapping him in his arms and laying his head on Yuuri’s chest, listening to the rapid beat of his heart.  But Yuuri was tired and nervous and didn’t relax.  As Viktor drifted off to sleep, he heard Yuuri asking, “Did you set an alarm?”  He didn’t answer.  He needed Yuuri to stay nervous and anxious.

When he woke up, Yuuri was already up, looking even more haggard than before.  Viktor hated himself for it, but this might be what Yuuri needed.  When they got to the rink, he forbade jumps during the warm up, knowing full well that Yuuri would do them anyway and that it would make him feel worse.  He watched as Yuuri became more and more agitated during the competition.  Being first in the short program meant he went last in the free skate, and it was a hard place to be.  Viktor knew this from experience.  But it didn’t bother him like it did Yuuri.  He didn’t have those poisonous little inner voices that told him negative things like Yuuri did.  And he needed Yuuri’s inner demons to rise up and swallow him whole. 

He dragged Yuuri to the parking garage, because he needed to make sure Yuuri’s anxiety took hold of him.  Yuuri stood in front of him, on the verge of tears, the attack hovering.  He couldn’t skate like this.  If he tried to skate in this state, he’d fall again for sure, and all of this would have been for nothing.  Viktor couldn’t bear that.

“Yuuri,” he said, “if you fail to make the podium, I’ll take responsibility and resign as your coach.”

For a moment, Yuuri was frozen in front of him, hurt and shock written all over his pale face.  And then his tears began to flow, unchecked and unstoppable.  Yuuri sobbed only a couple of feet away from him, curling up on himself.

“Viktor, why would you say something like that, like you’re testing me?” Yuuri whispered, wounded.  Every instinct in Viktor told him this was the wrong thing to do, that he needed to surge forward and hold Yuuri, apologize to him, soothe all the hurt away.  But there was a part of his brain that quietly said, _What if this is what needs to happen_?  And so he let Yuuri cry in front of him.  He made no move to comfort him, even though it broke his heart to do so, and hoped to God he’d never have to do this again.

They walked into the rink in silence, neither of them looking at one another.  But Viktor could sense a difference, a change in Yuuri.  He’d had the attack and come through the other side.  They hadn’t fought it off, Yuuri had fought his way through it.

Yuuri stepped out on the ice and handed Viktor the tissue he’d given him.  But he tricked Viktor and made him lean out.  When he felt Yuuri’s finger gently touch the part in his hair and then pat his head, he knew Yuuri understood he was only human and had forgiven him.  But would he ever forgive himself?

And then Yuuri skated.  He glided smoothly over the ice, graceful and beautiful.  He even smiled during his routine, all the tension drained out of him.  Viktor watched as he landed his jumps, only slightly stepping out of his triple axel.  When it came time for Yuuri’s next jump, a triple flip, Viktor held his breath, but Yuuri landed it just fine.  And for the first time in a long time, Viktor began to think they might actually make it out this time. 

At the end of his program, when Viktor knew he had to be utterly exhausted, Yuuri changed the last jump.  Instead of the quadruple toe loop he’d practiced so many times before, he pulled Viktor’s signature move, a quadruple flip.  Viktor couldn’t resist rushing out onto the ice and kissing him.  He knew they were finally getting out of this damn mess.

As they sat in the kiss and cry, he wrapped an arm around Yuuri as they waited for his score.  He could feel Yuuri shaking next to him and he wasn’t sure if it was from nerves, excitement, exhaustion, or some combination of all three.  It didn’t matter.  Viktor knew from long experience that Yuuri was going to medal.  He was going to go stand on that podium.  He gave Yuuri’s shoulders a hard squeeze.  This wasn’t the end for them, not by a long shot.

The score came in and Yuuri rose to second place, just behind Phichit and in front of Chris.  Viktor huffed out a breath and wrapped Yuuri in a hug as the crown roared.

“You did it!” Viktor said, holding Yuuri close. 

“No,” Yuuri replied, pulling back just enough to look Viktor in the eyes, “we did it.”

“Indeed we did,” Viktor agreed, smiling back at Yuuri.

Phichit and Chris invited them out to a celebratory dinner after the medal ceremony.  Viktor knew Yuuri was tired, but that it would also be good for him to go and socialize with the others.  He ushered Yuuri into the shower first, then followed behind him once he was done.  They also had a lot to talk about on a personal level, but that could wait until after dinner.

Viktor got out of the shower and stepped into the room, only to find that Yuuri was passed out on his bed, towel still wrapped around him.  The poor thing hadn’t even managed to put on any clothes.  Sighing, Viktor pulled the covers over Yuuri, then reached inside and pulled the towel off of him.

 **Won’t be joining you for dinner** , he texted to Chris and Phichit.  **Sleeping Beauty needs his rest.**   He snapped a quick picture and sent it along with the text.

 **I wouldn’t go to dinner either if I could stare at him** , Chris texted back.

 **That’s fine, but we’re all going out after the Grand Prix!** Phichit sent.

 **Count on it!** Viktor typed, then sent the text and set his phone down on the nightstand.  Just before midnight, he silently eased out of the room and made his way to the roof again.  On schedule, the meteor flashed overhead right before midnight. 

“I hope we don’t ever have to do this again,” he whispered to the vaporized dust as it vanished among the stars. 

In the morning, Viktor sat straight up when his alarm went off.  He grabbed his phone and immediately dismissed the alarm, but was too afraid to look at the date.  Instead, he let his gaze fall on Yuuri’s bed, half expecting to see Yuuri perched on the edge again.  But Yuuri was curled up under the covers, fast asleep.  Letting out a breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been holding, Viktor offered a silent prayer of thanks, grateful that this ordeal was finally over.

 

* * *

 

A month later, Viktor was sitting next to Yuuri in the back of Yu-topia, both of them wrapped up against the evening chill.  He buried his nose in Yuuri’s hair, glad they had finally figured out what they meant to each other.  He could hear Yuuri humming in happiness, just enjoying being close to him.  Viktor basked in the warmth that was Yuuri, happier than he’d ever been. 

“Oh!” Yuuri breathed, pulling his head up.  “Look!  It’s a shooting star!  We should make a wish!”

Viktor felt a shiver run through him that had nothing to do with the cold. 

“No,” he said, shaking his head.  “I don’t think so.”

Yuuri made a questioning noise as the meteor faded away to dust in the sky.  “Don’t you want to wish on a falling star?”

“Not really,” Viktor said softly.  Yuuri gave him a look, clearly wanting him to elaborate, but Viktor remained silent.  How could he ever explain what had happened to him, how he had relived the same terrible day over and over again? 

“What would I ask for, anyway?” Viktor murmured, moving in close enough to Yuuri to feel his breath ghost over his face.  “I have everything I could ever want right here in front of me.”

Yuuri smiled against Viktor’s lips as he moved in for a sweet and simple kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! As always, comments & kudos are appreciated. You can read more of my fics [here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/paint_with_words/works).


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